“It does. You do. I want you to feel good too, y’know.”
He smiles big. “It’ll happen. Don’t worry.”
We take a breath, both trying to get our bodies to go back to normal. Well, at least I am. But my body’s buzzing.
I look down and stare at the sticky mess I made. I don’t know if I should frown guiltily or grin smugly, so I land on grinning guiltily.
“Shit, sorry about your sweats,” I mumble. “And this mattress. Sorry, sheets.”
Nil snorts. “Stop apologizing to inanimate objects.”
“At least let me respect the room. The room has seen some shit now.”
His laugh comes out real and sweet, and I swear something in me clicks into place.
I rest my forehead against his. “We should change.”
“Yeah, soon,” he says, but he still doesn’t let go of me. “Stay here for a second?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I whisper, smiling back. “My legs can’t pass a sobriety test right now.”
He closes his eyes, like my stupid joke settles something in him. I like that look on him a lot.
He settles me down too. And I really think I could get used to this.
***
Nil eventually shuffles from under me like he remembers he has blood flow and stiff muscles and maybe a brain with a decent conscience.
Not like mine, though. I’m still thinking dirty thoughts.
“Let me help you clean up,” he whispers, voice rough.
“Uh, sure,” I say, still half melted onto him and definitely not wanting to move.
But the sexy stickiness down below’s turning into an awkward strain. You know that feeling where it’s getting stuck to the groin? Yeah, not recommended.
He sits up first, tugging me with him by my shirt. His sweats have a dark patch where he was leaking. He’s not bothering me about it, but he really should.
Push me down on my knees and make me suck you off, Ocean Eyes. That’s what I wanna say.
And for real, I would. Big time. Beg real hard.
But the look on his face is all serious and daring, like if I try to start something I’m not ready to finish, he’llfinish me.
We’re just getting started. I don’t want it to end yet, so I let him take the lead.
I follow him into the tiny half-bath. The light flicks on. The mirror fogs up a bit. Usually, I hate mirrors—too many flashbacks of Ma’s office and all the ways she turned my reflection into a nightmare.
But then Nil steps in behind me, his chest on my back, and suddenly I can stare at my reflection.
He peels my pants and boxers off. My face is sorta pink, and my shirt’s twisted halfway up with my abs peeking out.
Hello, hot stuff.
But Nil’s way hotter. He looks completely in control, which is unfairly sexy. His pupils are blown. Barely any blue there.
Through the mirror, I watch his hands find my waist. He pulls me back a step, and my knees briefly consider giving up on life.
